


in his face (you saw)

by pvrker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adopted Peter Parker, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Flash Thompson Redemption, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvrker/pseuds/pvrker
Summary: Flash looks down and gulps. Obviously, he didn't expect to see Tony face-to-face. Or at all, for that matter. "Sorry, mister Stark. I - hello. It's nice to see you." he offers a hand to shake.He shakes the kid's vibrating hand. "Mister Thompson. Nice to see you too," he says a bit too dryly."Is, um, is Peter around? We have a, a study date. He told me I could come at ten, I hope I'm not intruding or-""A study date? That'd odd...Peter never told me anything about a study date."
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Flash Thompson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 583





	in his face (you saw)

**Author's Note:**

> !!! okay i know flash is supposed to be peter's """bully"""" but i am allergic to canon !!! 
> 
> since kevin feige and amy pascal refuse to give flash any of that yummy character development, i (sort of) did their job for them and gave him just a sprinkle for now. mkay enjoy.

When Peter tells him he's dating someone Tony pats him on the back and presses a couple of gentle kisses to his forehead. He's proud for one of two reasons - the first being: he's proud that despite the fact that his kid is now seventeen, he still finds it in him to confide in Tony. And the second: he knows Peter makes the right decisions, this person must mean something special to him.

The the foggy aura of joy bubbling around them is blown away, however, when Peter tells him exactly who it is. 

"Flash Thompson?" Tony repeats with his set of eyebrows tipped up his forehead.

Beside him, Peter is all of the sudden red and is plucking strings out from the hem of his sweatshirt. "Yeah? I mean. _Yeah_. Flash Thompson. Is that- is that okay?"

It's okay.

Save for the fact that this is the same Flash ( _Eugene_ , really) Thompson that made Peter's life what could almost be compared to a breathing nightmare throughout freshman and sophomore year. Tony has lost count of how many times he'd had to walk into Morita's office with an infinite list of growing complaints solely pointed to a single teenager who was barley taller than him. So, relatively, it isn't okay. "I - of course. Of course it's okay, Petey-Pie. You know, you've gotta introduce me to him sometime," he says, pulling his kid close to his chest.

"I believe you've already been acquainted," Peter smugly remarks.

"That's it. I've had enough with your sass - you're grounded forever." Tony hides his worry in the form of a laugh and pushes Peter's hair back before landing his lips onto the skin of his forehead.

There's one of the many drawbacks of being a parent - the constant worrying over whether you're protecting your kid enough, in Tony's case. Peter is one of the only things Tony can look at and reflect on what good he's done over the past few years. Iron Man included, not as much as the kid though. He has watched Peter grow since the kid was twelve, it's hard to imagine (despite how cheesy it sounds) how much he's evolved into his own young man in five little years.

The day Flash comes over happens to be the same day Tony has an imaginably important stock meeting. 

He's already dressed in a muted black suit, touched with a red silk tie. He has a granola bar shoved in his mouth, work bag strapped on his shoulder when the elevator dings open before Tony can set foot into the cubicle.

"Oh _shit_ -" and Flash Thompson of _all_ people is standing there, mirroring Tony with his backpack on his shoulder and chocolate bar being half-chewed in his mouth.

"Language," Tony reprimands, sighing.

The boy looks down and gulps. Obviously, he didn't expect to see Tony face-to-face. Or at all, for that matter. "Sorry, mister Stark. I - hello. It's nice to see you." he offers a hand to shake, the other one holding a bakery box.

He shakes the kid's vibrating hand. "Mister Thompson. Nice to see you too," he says a bit too dryly.

"Is, um, is Peter around? We have a, a study date. He told me I could come at ten, I hope I'm not intruding or-"

"A study date? That'd odd...Peter never told me anything about a study date."

Tony can see the sweat pouring down the boy's face, he almost _-_ _almost_ \- feels sorry for him. "I-I mean, we planned it o-only last night - _over text_ \- so he probably, um, forgot to tell you?"

"I can ask him, if you want." mostly because he's skeptical. "Fri?"

He lets Flash into the penthouse and they both sit on the living room couches, pooled by an awkward silence while they wait for Peter to emerge. Tony tries to make small talk but he doesn't, mostly because he has no clue what to make small talk _about_. How many parents let their kid's bully into their house and make friendly talk with them? So far, none he's heard of.

Peter comes out in a record time of eight minutes - if Tony hadn't been late to his meeting before, he sure is now. The part that makes his heart beat from his chest; when both teens wrap each other into a searing hug. He's sure to have seen Flash smelling his kid's hair, which is, in all ways creepy and unacceptable.

"Hey, sorry for the wait. I'm just so used to sleeping in very late on Saturdays," Peter says into the hug.

"It's - it's alright. Um, I brought croissants from the bakery? The one down the street I mean. You said you liked them and I just thought, you know." the other boy opens the box in his hands and the kid smiles at the contents.

Tony decides to clock out - kissing Peter on the cheek before telling him that he'll be back for his lunch break. In an ideal world, he would've liked to be there to supervise but it's nothing FRIDAY can't handle. Plus, Pepper will have his ass if he doesn't show his face in the conference room.

By bringing Peter into his life, Tony knows there are so many first that he'd signed up for - a lot he missed. First significant other, be it girl or boyfriend or partner, he signed up for this. He has no reason to be the dictator to his son's life, painting over his walls and telling him who he can and can't be with. It isn't a question about race, gender, economical status. It needs to be determined by the baggage the person carries. In this case, Tony sees the baggage as being too heavy for the scale to weigh.

As promised, he comes back for lunch and is surprised to actually see the two of them splayed on the living room floor with their TI-84's and protractors out. As a trio, they have a quick grilled cheese lunch, albeit awkward and silent, and Tony hops back out to the office. 

He does come back in the evening, just in time to see brief cheek kisses being shared among teenage boys.

There's a tear through growing up in the twentieth and twenty-first century. Nowadays, everything is more dangerous and people who were once young are getting old, having to see changes between time. Tony remembers being a teenager, as much as his brain shrivels to a raisin when he thinks about it. It's hard to believe that he too was once young, not quite in love but - is Peter in love? Is this what, _who_ , he really wants?

Over the next couple of weeks, Flash Thompson becomes a reoccurring character in the Stark household; he comes late in the morning just to comb through Peter's hair while the latter sits sleepily on his lap, he's there for lunch sometimes and he and the kid usually go out and do something on weekend afternoons.

And Tony notices the change in attitude and the _effort_ Flash puts in to everything remotely involving Peter: reminding him to wear a sweater, reminding him to eat, helping with homework, giving him his space if he needs any. Is it enough? The hours of time they spend together, the amount of times Flash asks Peter if it's okay to touch him. Is it justifiable? How does one go about navigating the mind's prison?

Tying back to weekend afternoons, Peter informs him about a house party he's been invited to recently. Unlike true high school fashion, there's even a card and everything, the address clearly stamped on slippery card paper. Tony gives him the go-ahead, even offering to drop off and pick up.

"How do I look?" Peter asks him the following Saturday evening. He has midnight blue eyelashes and glossy pink on his lids. There's a faint tinge to his cheeks and Tony smiles thinking about how _angry_ Howard would have been if this were him.

"Amazing. Stunning, dare I say, _gorgeous_?"

Flash Thompson is, of course, involved in the equation. This he realizes when he drops the kid off at the address. "Hey, mister Stark," he says breathlessly after he and Peter have played tongue-war for thirty-six seconds. Tony counted. 

"Don't go too wild now. And no drinking. Not even a drop of alcohol 'cause I'm testing your blood when I come pick you up," Tony jokes, waves, blows kisses and drives away in true Stark fashion.

Harrison Thompson isn't a bad man. The man works for one of the biggest names in New York, not bigger than SI but Tony can give him the credit. He's seen the man once or twice at school events, never his wife though. Peter said something about her being distant. Point is, he doesn't hate Harrison Thompson. In fact, the only reason Tony ever disliked him was because of his son. Now their sons are making out and holding hands, what choice do they have but to get along? In actual fact, they have a wide variety of choices. The hindmost just seems like the most appropriate.

But it comes to a surprise when he learns he's been invited to the Thompson residence for dinner. He and Peter arrive in Vineyard Vines sweaters, bottle of wine in hand. Just a tad bit too posh.

"Hey, you look amazing. Wow," Flash opens the door and sheepishly grins immediately. He knows that teenaged look - the ones they tow boys give each other as a hand settles onto Peter's waist. Admiration. Adoration. 

It's slightly uncomfortable seeing his kid swapping spit with another person so Tony moves to the main hall where he finds the man of the house (it's _quite_ the house) himself.

"Mister Stark," Harrison says seconds into their handshake.

"Call me Tony,"

"Only if you call me Harry,"

Dinner is tense. The clanging of forks and knives against ceramic, throats swallowing large amounts of water, people grunting in thick silence.

At the end, the teenagers take of for Flash's room upstairs, questionably laughing until - "Five inches open," both men chorus.

The moment deserves to be framed in time. It feels like drinking water after a marathon and for the first time, Harrison - _Harry_ \- smiles. Tony smiles - they both smile and suddenly, he can't remember why they hated each other in the first place.

The clock ticks forward another set of weeks. Tony finds himself driving to pick Peter up at Flash's place more often, it's nice. There's even a decathlon event they go to and he shows up with a foam finger and a carefully crafted sign, Harry sits grinning by him as he witnesses his son win a tournament for the first time.

And then Tony finds the box of condoms on Peter's desk while he's putting laundry away

He isn't sure if the kid left it for him to find (that'd be highly unlikely) or if he left if there only by accident. But he examines the box nevertheless; clearly opened with about three out of ten packets used. 

God, he wants to cry. Why? He knew this day was coming, sooner or later. Is it selfish that he started having sex at a much younger age, but doesn't want Peter to even start thinking about it? He's done more than think about it, however, clearly. He leaves the box where it is and as a consequence, faces a pink-faced teenager when said teenager comes home.

"I - um," Peter prompts, staring at the floor and picking at the kitchen counter. "We weren't - it wasn't - it was only stuff. S-stuff with, you know, there wasn't any _actual_ like - sex. I mean, it kinda, sorta w-was but not like, like _that_. It was just, like. Stuff. With, god, with your mouth? Like, _you know_. Sorry you had to find those."

"Didn't really need to know that but yeah, thanks for the weather check. I...I-I wasn't snooping. I just found it. But it's cool, as long as you're being safe and consensual, I'm not going to judge you. You've been together for, what? Three and a half months? Still a bit too short in my opinion but hey, it's up to you to set the pace and figure out what you like and what you don't like. And I have _absolutely_ no right to belittle or shame you on that matter."

Peter visibly relaxes. "God, I was about to explode,"

"Seriously. You're seventeen kid, your body is your body and you have the right to explore it however you'd like. Dildos, vibrators, all perfectly normal -"

" _Oh my god_ , I am _officially_ _done_ talking to you."

Tony cackles.

It's mid April. Peter brings Flash over to spend the night. Tony goes to spend some time with Pepper at her place, he doesn't want to be home if two teenagers are going to be spending their first night as a couple together. He doesn't know what happens but when he comes back the next morning there are plates and pots in the sink, blankets on the balcony. And opening the door to the kid's room - he sees both boys snuggled under a thick duvet, both lacking t-shirts.

"How was your soiree with the beau?" he asks Peter after the other leaves early afternoon. 

The kid laughs and threatens to never talk to him again. 

"Hey mister Stark, is Peter around?" Flash asks, stepping into the penthouse on a bright Sunday.

Tony waves from the couch, tearing his eyes away from his book. "Hello to you too. Should be in his room sleeping, it's only eight." he says.

"Alright, uh, cool. Thanks. My fath- uh, my _dad_ says hi. By the way,"

"That's oddly cool of him. Send him my thanks," he gets a hold of the boy's sleeve before he walks down the hallway. There are so many things that have been left unsaid. "Look, kid. You're a great person and I understand the effort you're putting into fixing mistakes you made in the past but _please_ understand and don't hold it against yourself if I come off as weird or skeptical. You hurt my kid. Two years. I love him more than anything, as you might now. So really, I'm just asking you to just be careful and I don't want this to turn into one of those 'dad talks' but I'm begging you to not hurt him. Consequences are pretty clear. Quick talk. That's it, you're off the hook,"

Flash's eyes are sparkly brown, he's tearing up and excessively nodding. It's a silent, almost childlike, promise between them. A glorified pinkie-promise. Fixing the past takes a painstakingly rich amount of effort and emotional stability, sometimes instability; it's a common fear that they both must know enough to be familiar with. 

When the two boys come out a little after noon, both their heads of hair are wet and Peter has a painting of dark patches showing on his waist when he stands on his toes to grab a mug.

Flash coughs into his water and Tony lifts the fuzzy caterpillars he calls his eyebrows.

Eggs and bacon are sizzling on the stove. A jug of orange juice sits cold on the table next to the house plants. Peter is on the counter, other boy between his legs as they tease one another with bites along their still-swollen lips.

Tony's phone buzzes at the same time - a text from Flash's father; a picture of the two boys holding their decathlon trophy in mustard yellow jackets. Tony smiles, opens his camera and snaps a picture of his own to send.

**Author's Note:**

> this has nothing to do with the fic but taika won an oscar!!! my insides are quaking !!!


End file.
